


Found Family (Breakfast at Sisko's)

by letstalkabouttrek



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Canon Relationships, Canonical Character Death, Families of Choice, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3870643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letstalkabouttrek/pseuds/letstalkabouttrek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sisko wasn’t sure why he decided to start making Sunday breakfast again. (Originally posted on tumblr.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Found Family (Breakfast at Sisko's)

**Author's Note:**

> This is another work originally from my tumblr. It is mostly my emotions about the DS9 crew becoming a family over the years.

Sisko wasn’t sure why he decided to start making Sunday breakfast again.

It had been a tradition in his family growing up, and some of his earliest memories were of waking up on a Sunday morning to the smells of frying bacon and hot pancakes drifting up the stairs. When he was older, he started helping his dad in the kitchen, eventually taking over a few mornings entirely to let him get the few more hours of sleep he constantly insisted he didn’t need.

He’d kept it up as best he could during his time at the academy, usually finding at least one weekend a month where he wasn’t too exhausted from homework, tests, and simulations to get up early and cook. It wasn’t quite the same, using largely replicated ingredients and making do with the limited kitchen space, but between his appreciative roommate the the handful of other friends that the scent of homemade food would drag in from their hall, it still felt like a family. 

Jennifer had loved it. Like a lot of people, she had grown up almost entirely on replicated food, gotten used to tastes and textures that were just slightly off. The first time she’d woken up and found his side of the bed empty and him bent over the stove, she had laughed, but a few bites of his omelette were enough to sell her on the tradition. Even though using a few replicated ingredients was something basically unavoidable, he always went out of his way to try and find her favorites fresh - ripe strawberries, bright green spinach, real maple syrup, butter that was so yellow it was practically orange. Those Sunday mornings had been a familiar routine, relaxed and comfortable.

Once he started getting starship postings, the breakfasts fell to the wayside, became a special occasion for shore leave and holidays. The time, energy, and resources required for cooking were something he rarely had, and the erratic shift schedule of a young ensign left him sleeping straight through Sunday mornings more often than not. 

On the rare occasions that he did get an opportunity to cook, Curzon had a tendency to drop by, technically uninvited. Sisko didn’t mind; just as the Trill seemed to have a sixth sense letting him know when Sisko had made breakfast, he also could somehow tell which days he, Jennifer, and eventually Jake wanted to be alone as a family and stayed clear. Plus, the first time he’d come by, he’d introduced Ben to raktajino, which some mornings seemed like a debt that could never properly be repaid.

After Jennifer’s death, he didn’t stop cooking altogether, but the Sunday breakfasts disappeared. He’d tried once, helping out his dad while visiting in New Orleans, and had wound up staring blankly at the wall while the bacon burned to a crisp in front of him. His father didn’t say anything, simply sat him at the table with a mug of coffee and came out later with shrimp and grits and an open ear. Ben had numbly told him that breakfasts meant family. Joseph had understood without any further explanation. 

So he really wasn’t sure why, after living on Deep Space Nine for just over a year, he’d woken up one Sunday and started preparing the ingredients for french toast. 

It was just a few weeks after the incident with The Circle, and he supposed that was part of it. Benjamin Sisko had officially dug in his heels and declared to the universe that he did not intend on going anywhere. He certainly wouldn’t comfortably call this place home, not yet, but it was no longer something he saw as an assignment. He was in it for the long haul. 

Jake wandered out of his bedroom bleary-eyed and rumpled, and if he was surprised to see his father in the kitchen, he didn’t say so. He simply walked over and grabbed a slice off the neat stack of french toast Sisko had built, and Sisko just laughed and told him to have some manners and go set the table. 

A week later, Jadzia came into their quarters at 0800, just as the scrambled eggs and sausage were coming off the stove. Sisko smiled as he plated the three servings he had prepared, while she replicated two raktajinos and a glass of orange juice. 

And so every Sunday that didn’t bring a station-wide crisis or the aftermath of one found Benjamin Sisko in the kitchen.

At first it was just the three of them, sometimes only two when Jadzia spent her Saturday nights doing something even she needed to sleep off. Sisko would save her a plate on those occasions, dropping it off at her quarters once he was sure it was late enough that she would be conscious and her bed would be empty. 

Once they had settled into a regular rhythm, the group began to expand somewhat. Jake was the first to bring in someone else, after Nog stayed over and the two of them were up far too late. Sisko and Jadzia both had to get to work, but they left two heaping plates out and told the computer to set an alarm for 1030 if they weren’t up by then.

After that, having other people over seemed like a natural extension. 

Nog would join them fairly regularly, whether or not he had stayed the night. He gave Jake someone to talk to while Sisko and Jadzia were preoccupied with other topics of conversation, so he fit well. Sisko would occasionally make something just for him, replicating a few grubs to add to an omelette or getting some ungaberry jam from Quark to top pancakes with. 

The O'Briens were happy to come when they were invited, so Sisko tried to have them over once every few months. He could plan for their visits, making Molly sets of miniature pancakes that he decorated with fruit and arranged in solar systems on her plate. When Keiko left for Bajor, he made a point to have Miles over a bit more frequently, cooking the hearty foods that kept the Chief going.

Bashir didn’t come often, only when Jadzia dragged him over. He and Sisko weren’t exactly close, but he inspired a sort of paternal protection from the Captain, even though he was only nine years younger. But he could see why Dax was friends with the doctor even if she had to sit through nearly 2 years of awkward flirting to get there. When he did happen to drop by, his energy seemed to fill the room, and Sisko learned he could pack quite an impressive amount of food into his lean frame. 

Major Kira’s addition coincided rather well with Nog’s departure for Starfleet. She would come over once every month or so, always informing him ahead of time. Occasionally she was joined by Odo, who was a surprisingly good breakfast companion for someone who didn’t eat or drink.

During Odo’s time as a solid, he joined them more often, taking in the new experiences. He kept coming even after getting his shapeshifting back, sometimes even joining them on mornings where Kira was absent. 

Kasidy Yates integrated herself into the system flawlessly. She was used to being up early on Sundays, the remnant of a churchgoing youth. Even though she couldn’t exactly attend services where they were, if it was a Sunday and she was on the station, she would be awake just as early as Ben, if not earlier, quietly leafing through her Bible as he shuffled around the kitchen.

Worf had always made excuses whenever he had been invited over, until Jadzia made him promise to come at least once. While he wasn’t the most sociable of companions, he did turn out to have a good appreciation of food. He would wander in with Jadzia about once a month.

It was good. When the war heated up, they would sometimes have to skip a week or two, but afterwards there would always be a greater turn out. It was a constant, a comfort. 

Jadzia’s death changed everything.

The first Sunday after Sisko returned to the station, he got up later than usual, but nonetheless headed to the kitchen. Kasidy eyed him carefully, but didn’t say anything as he started making shrimp and grits. He didn’t make much, just enough for three people, and sure enough Ezri came in hesitantly at 0803. The three of them ate quietly, testing the waters.

Things slowly began to return to normal, or whatever sort of normal they had left. Jake and Nog would show up unfailingly, barring the post-AR-558 weeks. Bashir seemed to pop up more often than before, shooting glances in Ezri’s direction now and then. Kira and Odo would show up arm in arm, chatting about the latest criminal activity report. Even Worf, eventually, tentatively, after several invitations, stepped in one morning as cautiously as Sisko had ever seen him do anything. 

So it was good. They had that, if only briefly. Before the Breen and Cardassia and the Fire Caves. This was a place Sisko would unhesitatingly call home.

After all, breakfast meant family.


End file.
